Soul Keepers (Editing) #Wattys2020

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The noise of students already bursting from the heavy doors of the college surrounded Millie when at nine-thirty she was seated in ugly, green, fabric covered chairs at the admissions office. The brightly shining sun did nothing to chase away the cold, but it did reflect beautifully off the snow, blue skies a backdrop to the naked trees. Millie’s watchful violet eyes studied the beautiful gray stone and marble floors of the gothic building, with the shingled stone roof and towers that reminded her of some kind of castle.

She nervously—though she didn’t know why—tapped her booted feet on the floors studying the movement of every person that entered and exited the room. From where she was seated she could see most of the movements of the other students. It was a habit formed from years of being cautious, one she found that she couldn’t—nor did she want to—easily  break. Added to it was the fact that he’d been in her dreams, so she’d barely slept, though the tiredness did not reflect in her features.

“Miss James?” Millie rose and walked towards the counter where she was addressed from. The woman standing there could have been a great beauty, if her tired eyes weren’t quite so hollowed out or her red painted lips so unsmiling. “Now here are your classes and scheduling,” she slid a paper towards Millie’s waiting hands. It was warm and smelt like ink— like it had just come out of the printer—before she rounded the counter “I’ll show you to your first class.”

She didn’t seem to happy to be doing it, but it must have been a mandatory service. Millie followed the woman through the crowded halls, her heels clicking rhythmically in her wake. “Professor Raymond is a little out there,” she said maneuvering around bodies bundled against the cold “But his class is one of the most popular on campus. Occult Studies,” she added with a little shake of her head, as if trying to figure out how something so macabre could be so popular.

She left Millie standing at a double door staring after her as she walked away.

Inhaling deeply she pushed open the doors drawing curious eyes to her. She stood with the doors to her back frozen for a second before she breathed out her nerves slowly, moving towards an empty space on the sloped seating that ended with the teacher’s desk at the bottom. No one had said anything, not even the professor—a middle aged man that wore quite a bit of leather and had long hair brushing his shoulders—but she did feel his gaze on her until she sat.

Slowly unwrapping the maroon scarf from around her neck that trapped heat to her body, she draped it along with her bag on the back of her chair as the lecture resumed, her late entrance forgotten.

Eyes were glued to her again, but she ignored it like other times dismissing it as curiosity, until an unsettling feeling blossomed in the pit of her stomach making goose bumps raise on her skin. Those eyes did not belong to anything human. The gaze that was so thoroughly assessing her wasn’t merely one of passing curiosity. Her internal radar was warning her, whispering one word to her over and over again.
Vampire.

With a silent, sharp intake of breath, she angled her head and turned to the source of the gaze, her hands moving to the holster she had strapped to her torso hidden from view by the layers of her clothing. Her fingers brushed against the hard metal of her throwing daggers giving her an ounce of calm. she was always armed. The holster strapped to her chest, daggers tucked into her boots,  more knives strapped to her thighs, but she could use none of it, not in a room full of humans.

He was handsome, but then they usually were—flawless in their physical appearance—all part of their glamour to entice the unsuspecting to build a false trust.

This one had spiky blonde hair and finely sculpted, aristocratic features that garnered him figurative glances from the other people in the room, attention he no doubt enjoyed getting.  He was lean and looked tall, even when sitting. His eyes were a screaming vivid blue, his lips titling into a knowing smirk and his arm was lazily thrown across the back of an empty chair next to him.